We Lost
by MiaMeadows
Summary: This is based on a dream I once had. Each chapter is preceded and succeeded by a little poem. The story is based on what would have happened had Harry lost that final day. It is written in a somewhat classical form. I do so hope you enjoy it. Told from the point of view of Hermione.
1. Our Day

And now, my dear, to lighten the mood,  
I have come to divulge a tale for you,  
Though it is not real and never occurred,  
For just in my head the story unfurled.  
In the quiet blackness of the night,  
Witches and wizards indeed took flight.  
And pray, prithee, please do attend,  
What here shall miss my words shall strive to mend.

I am that girl, Hermione Granger, and the story begins...

Oh horror! Alack the day, for I had been forced into a marriage of the ungodly kind. To a Death Eater, a villain. An unholy mass of wickedness. And there at the altar, in Hogwarts' Great Hall, before the Dark Lord himself, and my friends and loved ones, I stood, in wedding dress and veil, a vision of perfection, the feminine ideal. And my hands were held in what seemed like claws of the man to whom I must surely spend my life. What escape could there be for me? With he who must not be named standing by, poised to strike should I fail to please? But then, my dear, why I had to glance, just once, at the face of the boy, nay, the man, whose hands I so wished were clasped in mine that day. Whose face I wished to wake to in the small hours of the morning light, whose arms I wanted around me for all the years to come. He was there you see, for they forced him to watch, to see his love, his only light, stolen away in the cruellest of ways. Best man to the groom who could never make her happy. And I sought his face for the briefest of moments. But the last little breath of hope I wished to see was not there. His face, a bitter twisted contortion of pain and suffering hidden behind eyes like the ocean. The total and utter despair you could not believe. The complete loss of hope and faith and all that is lovely and good. And I could not do it. No. I could not allow this match, this awful match of fear and greed. I would have rather been slain then and there than live another moment with the memory of that face. That perfect face. So I cried out No! with all the fury I could muster and I tore my hands free from the demon's grip and I fled, I ran from that scene of horror like a bird from a lifetime of cages.

And Ron, the dearest, the sweet, he was the first to follow me, for he must have known, somehow, that I would not go through with the devious plot. That the strength buried deep inside of me would show its face again. And the others, struck dumb by the shock of my betrayal and treachery did not stir until the terrible voice thundered out Find her! and the crowds they came in their numbers to find the girl who had fled from the Lord of Darkness.

I flew through corridors and tunnels, if my feet knew my destination by mind did not. There was no doubt where I would reach, of course, my place of sanctuary, of safety, my home. The library. Somehow my body found me there, and I slowed to a walk between the words of comfort surrounding me within the pages and the spines. And Ron, he knew, he knew more than anyone where I would go. And he found me there, he did. And a reunion like soldier returning from war my dearest. And those arms I longed for so desperately did find their way around me and I found myself enclosed within the safety of the man I loved. And then his lips found mine in a brief and tender kiss.

And then, with less than minutes to escape from the cruel clutches of the minions of Him we snuck down the secret passageway, there, behind the section on Centaurs. And Ron went first, to check if the way was clear and while he disappeared around the bend I heard them. Those horridly rushed footsteps behind us. Someone had found our hideaway in the one place I thought I would be safe. And who was it my dear? Who found me there hidden behind the pages and the dust? Why who other than my own Ron would know to seek me there. And I knew before I saw him. I knew it was he. It is true. Harry. My Harry. My rock. My mountain. He had found us out. And you may think, my dear, that this is not a misfortune, that he, if no one else, would surely help us. But you do not understand, no, you do not see. For He, He who I cannot name, He had taken over, my love, He had. He had _won_. His power was great, his will was unchangeable and He was the one to whom the rest of us must surely bow. So Harry, sweet Harry, along with everyone else I held dear, was under the power and control of the darkest force of evil the world has ever known.

And I begged him, I beseeched that he not give us away, that he let us escape unhindered. Please. Could he not forget that he saw us, could he not pretend he had been too late. And he said nothing, he did nothing, he just stood there and watched as I climbed over the castle wall and down the drain pipe into the growing dark. And there was Ron, ready to meet me on the grass and we ran, oh we ran. And the Death Eaters they had made a light, this light that swept across the grounds like a great eye. And we lay side by side in the grass and we hoped to the heavens that we would not be discovered. And then there, we saw them, those who we used to call our friends, Neville and Seamus on patrol of the grounds. And by some luck, by some blessing they hadn't seen us. But oh, it was only a matter of time for the light, the terrible eye was approaching. So we took our chance and we stood, and they saw us! And again I pleaded with our old friends, please, just let us be, do not raise the alarm for pity's sake. And Neville, he said, go free, be safe. But Seamus, he didn't, he said there was no choice, they must turn us in, they must, there is no other way. And they argued, they shouted at each other. And Neville, bless him, his sweet kindly heart, he gave us the time to get away. While he fought with a boy who had once been his friend.

But then, in the confusion, the dark, the terror of that evil light, we lost each other's hand and faces. And he wasn't anywhere I looked though my hands sought him in that terrible blackness. But instead of Ron who did I find my dear? Why there was Harry. I followed you, he said, I couldn't let you leave without me, he said. So I took his hand instead and we made it. We got away from that dreadful place which we had once called our home. But Ron, my Ron, my little ball of light, was gone.

So Harry and I, we went to a last place of refuge and rebellion in a world of submission. The Leaky Caldron. And we ordered two butterbeers and we drank them in silence and apprehension. But even there we were not safe, there would be no safe place for us now. For they had found us. The Death Eaters. They came and we saw them at the door. So we snuck out the back and we ran through the desolate streets that were once the bustling hubbub of Diagon Alley.

And then the weight of the last days seemed to suddenly fall on me like a shower of snow. And I wept. I wept for the loss of the lives that we knew and those that we loved. And dear Harry he held me like only a best friend can. And he said very calmly and lovingly, calm down Hermione, and think, do what you do best and just think for a moment. Now Ron, he knew, he knew exactly where to find you, in the Library. So where will we find him? And then, all at once, we said, in perfect unison.

Fred's grave.

So we travelled a long and weary mile to the sad little tombstone of that poor boy who never truly grew up. And there, curled upon the grave, the loyalest of companions, not Ron, no, but Fred's cat. Poor dear had never left his side. So we fed the wretched creature and bundled her into our arms and we wondered where on earth we could possibly go next.

But here I must stop this tale of sorrow,

I woke to only my blankets and pillow.

I believe, if you wish it, I could write some more,

But it would only be fiction, only folklore.

I would have to create the rest alone,

No longer the dreams of which I have shown.

But I will leave you with a morsel of hope,

I believe they find each other and elope.


	2. The Tiniest Trickle of Hope

And hither again we have returned,

To our tale of a love that so brightly burned.

Though where we left off the scene was dark,

perchance our next chronicle shall embark,

upon a journey of danger and redemption,

and a love that will only strengthen.

So pray, attend my tale,

those who you love shall prevail.

A bitter night of rain and wind followed our dreary forms as we fled the melancholy grave. I had, I fear, begun to lose hope that I would ever see my sweet Ronald again. Our clothes were damp and our spirits drenched. I used the last of my strength to conjure a shelter in the darkness and we three huddled together in the cold and gave in to the ease and nihility of sleep.

When the pale light of morn crept into our eyes we awoke with the weight of all our woes blanketing us. But Harry, dear sweet Harry, he said never fear Hermione, for it is obvious what occurred. Ron was captured, he never escaped the castle grounds. All we must do is rescue him. And his positivity almost made me believe it possible. I almost thought we could do it. But of course it was a fool's dream. Never could two mere children take on the very face of evil and his countless followers. But I nodded and smiled and let Harry have his hope. One of us, at least, deserved that. And Harry would not be discouraged. For he knew of someone, one of us, who had escaped and had endeavoured to gather the last force of rebels against the gates of Hogwarts. They were few, it was certain, but few is better than two my dear, and a cat. And such a cat I have never met. Poor dear was so morose. Her heart was broken you see. And there was nothing we could ever do to fix that. But Harry knew the name, as did I, of the man, nay, father, who could help us. Rubeus Hagrid.

So we picked up our courage and our few small possessions and made our way to Richmond Park. One of the last free places. The reason for this was simple. Voldemort, in his arrogance, had grown careless in his patrol of the muggle world. And hie hence we fled from place to place. Stealing food and supplies whence we could and finding shelter beneath the stars at their constant vigil over our heads.

And somehow, ere nightfall, on a day we felt to be the last we could possibly wander, there it was. First we saw the trees. Then the deer. And we couldn't find it in our hearts to take another step. We fell to the ground and nearly wept from relief and cold. A sentry found us. Another who had escaped on that one night, the one night when anyone made it out of Hogwarts safe. That is, my dear, until we did.

Who was the sentry? Well, she was that maiden fair who had proved the strength of her courage a hundred times over. Our dearest Luna.

Yes Luna had escaped, bless her cotton socks. Unfortunately, that night, only one of our carriages slipped by unseen. It was the night of a grand feast in honour of the dark lord's victory. Only days after the terrible happened. Guests were coming and going through the gates all day and night. It was a last effort to break free from the incarceration. But only the first, only Hagrid's carriage made it. The second, the second… Well it was stopped. And we sent no more after that. Only a fool could think it would work. Only a fool would believe we would all make it out. Besides, half of us were made to serve at the feast. Those of us with goblets in our hands and plates on our arms, well, we had no hope of seeing the outside of those gates ever again.

I'm sure you wonder how it is we lost so much hope. We were the fighters, nay, the warriors of Hogwarts, that night when they first tried to break down our walls. And we fought them for every inch of our home. But it was just Harry. He lost. Such a simple little thing. Just one boy. But how could anyone expect him to face such an evil force? And the Dark Lord, well, he let Harry live. Only to torture his failure further. A slave to the man he couldn't defeat. And why? Why did he lose? Well it wasn't his wand either you know. And who broke Harry's wand? I did my love. And there is no one to blame but me for his failure that day.

We awoke to soup being ladled in our mouths and blankets strewn over our tired bodies. And sweet Hagrid's face was worth all the pain and the torture we had ever endured. A beautiful happiness had spread its wings across his features and his smile was warmer than any soup or blanket could ever be.

And there were hugs and there were tears and there were tales to tell. And finally something of a plan began to show itself in the safety of our tent. Perchance it could work. And if aught could be done to save Ron I would risk all I had. And, my dear, I had very little.

A cunning disguise, an unused path and a handful of young heroes were all we had. But somehow, we thought it would be enough. You see, there is a way through the forbidden forest that only Hagrid himself knew, the way of those dark creatures of the night. 'twas a terrible risk we all took that day, but, there was nothing for it. Our time had come to right the wrong that had so long tormented our lives.

With bags on our backs and courage in our hearts we embarked upon our last crusade. Seven of us there were, Hagrid, Harry, Luna and I included. When reached us the forbidden forest the stillness engulfed our very souls. A terrible silence had crept into those dark shadows, far worse than the howls that had preceded them. Our feet carried us where our hearts dared not and we found the hidden notch in the ancient tree that led directly into Hogwarts. "How else do ye think I snuck Aragog out?" whispered Hagrid, "a ruddy great spider like that, not easy to lug around he wasn't." Harry gave me a smile and squeezed my wee hand, I had not even realised that he had a hold of it till then. We can do this, we said, though our eyes spoke different words to each other. I was sure Harry was thinking of the others to be saved, including a fire headed warrior locked in the deepest, darkest dungeon that even Filch didn't know of. A dungeon said to hold terrors beyond mortal comprehension. A girl who was on that second carriage and never got to see the sky. Never got to taste her tiny freedom as we had. His hopes were just as scarce as mine but we held onto their strings as they sailed above us, guiding us into the gloom of that long forgotten tunnel.

We were unheeded by the cobwebs, and we tried not to think about whatever vile creatures had made them. We ignored the dripping and the damp, musty smell though it sank into our very skin and overwhelmed our senses. We couldn't see, not risking a light, and followed only the gruff of Hagrid's breath as he led us to our certain doom. What could be done once inside? What possible hope was there for the future? If we found them, what next? A trip across the ocean? Nowhere would be safe from the devastation of his wrath. There would be no peace for us, no end to the fear and the pain. Perhaps, I thought then, it would be for the best if the cave sank in around us and we spent our last moments in the darkness together, remembering those days when life was simple and bright and honest. Those days of joy that chased us to the end of our childhood and left us with naught but a hole in our chests that could never be filled.

But memories of my love, my Ron, made me condemn those evil thoughts. There is still hope, I whispered to the air, there is still hope. And I heard the voices around me, in the still of that tunnel, join me in the call. There is still hope.

And again I must ask that we leave it there,

though the peril they face is much to bear.

If the darkness shall end and the light overcome,

why, you will be there to welcome them home.

For Hogwarts was never meant for such evil deeds,

its very walls are rejecting the weeds.

Their plight will soon come to its end,

and so too, dear reader, will their souls mend.


	3. And Last

Together again for the last of our tale,

Where we hope they will come to some avail.

Thrice to fight with the friends three,

Each one there was meant to be.

And other brave souls who venture near,

will help those that they hold dear.

So prithee, for the last time tonight,

Attend my words and prevail they might.

The clutching darkness, which had harrowed our hearts, began to wane and a glimmer of something, a mere flicker of a shadow meant that we had made it, finally, to the end of our path. And, in most likeliness my dearest reader, the end of our small lives. We came out near the door to what was once the home of the greatest wizard of all time. Now a mere memory. An echo. In years past our passage had been his secret way in and out of the castle. Now disused, cobwebbed, dusty, damp. Like his tomb. Like his legacy.

When we emerged into the light already we could feel the halls welcoming us back like a son back from war. But for us, the war was not over. It would not be over until He Who Must Not Be Named was gone forever. I guess, we knew then that the battle would never truly end since, though we could destroy his body, the memory of his face would be seared into our brains for the rest of our lives. There would be no escaping it.

Our plan was simple enough. Reform the allegiance and the lines. And for just this one last time we would stand together against the darkness. Of course, freeing those in the dungeons was one of Harry's top priorities. And I cannot say I blame him for that. My heart desired much the same. But those still in employment would be easier to find. Eventually we split up. Hagrid and the other bold companions left to find the slaves of Him whilst Harry and I were bound deep underground. The marauder's map and the invisibility cloak were long since lost to the snatchers so we were forced to rely on memory and luck to find our way. The further we got the less guards we had to stupefy until eventually we could pass a broom cupboard without having to stuff a few bodies inside. It wasn't difficult to make it to the entrance. What was difficult was the smell and the darkness and the noise. Oh the noise! You could not imagine, if you tried, dear reader. And we knew, and it was such a terrible thing to know, that at least two of those screams were coming from the people we loved. Harry's face shattered like a glass window and I feared he would not be able to bear it. But he collected himself, took my hand in his again and led on into that melancholy place.

We came upon the first cell, and the next and the next. Most were empty. The Dark Lord was perfectly capable of keeping his victims hostage without the use of chains. But the few we came across with occupants were the most horrifying sights I have ever seen. Without risking the noise of a spell we tried to pick the locks at first but eventually I had to use bombarda to emancipate our friends. When we found the source of the screams we could never have prepared ourselves. Neville Longbottom. The one who allowed us to escape. Without him I would have been married to a death eater and forced to live a slave for the rest of my life.

That terrible curse that was used on his parents, used again now on their only son.

The death eater who was torturing him did not hear us approach, the noise was too loud for that. He didn't hear me whisper _avada kedavra_ either. And he didn't hear the horrible crunch as he hit the floor because, by then, he was already dead. Harry stared at me and I saw the emotions chase each other across his face. Shock, horror, disbelief, fear but eventually understanding. And I added to the list of how I had changed. We ran to Neville's side and helped him up between us. Whether he knew who we were or not wasn't clear. He didn't speak or look at either of our faces. But he clutched to my shoulder in what I hoped was friendship.

We kept looking but, try as we might, we could not find them all.

All but two we found. All but two. And I'm sure you know by now who those poor two were. It started to dawn on me that our escape would have sparked an interrogation of those closest to us. I looked at Harry as the realisation hit him as well. I saw something change in his face, something I had never seen in him before. I could only describe it, reader, as venom. And I thought for a moment that this boy, the boy who lived, could actually defeat the terrible evil that lurked somewhere above our heads. Our journey back up to the others was far longer than the one down. The captives were weak and very likely hadn't seen daylight in months. Harry seethed ahead of us. I could not hinder him. He was wild with it. There would not be two survivors this time. I could almost hear his thoughts. _Him or me this time._

'tis difficult to properly describe the joy that ensued when we reunited at last with those that remained enslaved in the castle. The most endearing sight was that of Neville's face when he saw Luna. On a face that had probably forgotten the taste of a smile there shone the most beautiful joy. And even if he never fully recovers he will always have Luna's arms to keep him safe.

But no one had seen Harry, he had not passed this way. And I knew that he would not wait, could not stand another moment of it. The torment that followed him and infected his dreams. The guilt that could never subside. It was obvious where it all must end, why, where it all began. Where man and boy had first felt accepted, had first started to think that they might have a place where they belonged. The great hall.

So, we walked together and we walked tall. We no longer feared them for there was nothing else they could take from us. At my side were family, friends and all of them warriors. Warriors who would never be driven asunder. And we sang as we walked. And somehow we all found the same tune, as we never had before, and the castle seemed to sing it with us. _Hogwarts, Hogwarts. _ We were yelling it.

When we reached the great hall we found them. He Who Must Not Be Named was spitting out his callous words. _Weak, coward, failure, fool _butHarry was silent. Still. A statue of himself. It's funny how I didn't notice them at first. But it is a well-known fact that people never look up. It was Mrs Weasley who spotted them. Her babies.

Suspended from the ceiling they were. Floating in the air like grotesque balloons.

The relief I felt at seeing his face was replaced by a passionate rage that I could not abide. I felt the cry come from my chest rather than my throat.

"FOR HOGWARTS"

And they followed me into the fray.

We only lost a few more lives, and they lost far more. Somehow our desperation made us strong. And the sight of those helpless bodies above our heads. All of us watching should they fall. And fall they did.

He was too cunning you see reader. He knew that the one weakness he didn't have was what would allow him victory.

Love.

So he let the captives fall and Harry had to try, there was no choice, he had to try and catch her. And as Ron fell I couldn't help but dive underneath him. For, of course, we were both standing right below them. And as Harry wrapped his body around Ginny's the room was engulfed in a terrible green light. And Harry saw no more.

Everything was lost.

I shook Ron to wake him but he would not stir. Yet, from the ashes, as Voldemort laughed and the death eaters cheered, a figure emerged. And with his wand raised he defeated the darkness in one movement and two words.

He fell. Crumpled. And Neville Longbottom needed two hands to steady him. But he had done it.

I don't need to tell you, my reader dear,

of the bittersweet mixture of joy and tear.

For, yes, He was gone, and forever still,

but the boy who first stood against him will

never know that Ginny lived, and Ron too

with finally a chance to start anew.

The prophecy was never meant for him,

But the other boy who had to begin

to heal and forget the pain and the fear.

Thank you for listening, my reader dear

The End.


End file.
